


Liar, Liar

by Ricky B (littletoes101)



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletoes101/pseuds/Ricky%20B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>luck begrudgingly must take in dallas as a gandor lackey (originally from tumblr).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What the hell.”

Luck Gandor sighed heavily at the man, Dallas Genoard, who was currently sitting across from him, the only-just-barely-a-foot-and-a-half table separating them. The space seemed even smaller now, with Dallas hunched over it ever so slightly, eyebrows knitted together, shadows darkening his eyes. He was just like Luck remembered, only now, it wasn’t the thirties; rather, they’d fast-forwarded nearly seventy years to two-thousand and two. It was a year that Luck had never expected to see—he definitely hadn’t expected Dallas to see it.

The last time they’d met, Dallas had still been an incomplete immortal. He wouldn’t die of any injury or illness, but he _could_ die of old age. Still, somehow, yesterday, Dallas’s younger sister Eve Genoard had turned up on his doorstep for the first time since 1932, looking just as young as ever, cerulean blue eyes alight with a fire that Luck remembered all too well. She’d aged up a bit apparently before taking the full elixir; her body was that of a woman, possibly around twenty, much more mature than the seventeen-year-old she’d been. She’d come with a proposal, as well; protect her, and her brother.

“I believe I was very clear,” Luck replied, doing his best to keep his voice as void of emotion as he possibly could. “Your sister wants you to stay here with me, so that she can get things sorted out back at home. In return, she helps me.”

“What the _fuck_ could she possibly be helping _you_ with?” Dallas snarled, pulling his lips back and wrinkling his nose so that Luck could see his teeth. His canines were impossibly sharp, reminding Luck of something like a coyote. “She’s a good girl, we both know that, and I swear to God, if you’re gettin’ her mixed up in your Mafia bullshit—”

“That’s enough,” Luck barked suddenly, cutting him off. Dallas slunk back a bit, some real submission showing in his eyes. Well, good—it looked like _something_ had changed in him, at least. Luck would rather Dallas be scared of the Gandors than be willing to face them as he did when they were younger. “I assure you, Eve isn’t getting involved in any of the Gandor’s dealings. She’s only giving us monetary supplements, mostly to care for you.” He wanted to add a _that doesn’t mean you can spend it like a kid in a candy store_ at the end, but figured that he’d rather not push Dallas’s temper any further. “As for you, however—”

“What? You gonna fuckin’ kill me again?” Cobalt blue eyes met yellow-gold, and although his words were spit out like acid, Luck could see the fear still in him. “Cause, if you are, I don’t want you to fuck with me. Get it over with.” He leaned back in the chair, his shoulders slumping back a bit. Well. This might actually go a bit easier than he thought, if Dallas was more submissive than he expected.

“No. Don’t give me a reason to, and we’ll be fine. All I want you to do,” Luck stated, putting his palms flat on the top of his desk, “is pretend to be my boyfriend.”


	2. Playing Pretend

The real question here was: what the fuck did Dallas think he was doing?

He mused over the inescapable proposal Luck had thrust upon him while he laid in the guest bedroom of the aforementioned Gandor’s apartment, head resting uneasily on the pillows, nose wrinkled and face twisted into a frown. Dallas Genoard. Sleeping in Luck Gandor’s house. What the _fuck_ was he doing? Sure, it sounded easy enough, pretending to be his boyfriend and all, but was it really worth it? Would he really be gaining all that much? Up until a few days ago, Dallas had been sure that they’d both still hated each other, but if Luck was willing to ask _him_ , of all people, to pretend to be his boyfriend, that had to mean something. After all, he hadn’t gone to Eve—could it be that he was…? Dallas didn’t want to think about either of the two options his brain branched off into: that either Luck was queer, or he was into Dallas. Or possibly both. His face turned hot as he flipped over in the other direction, trying to get comfortable.

Did it really matter, anyway? It wasn’t like Dallas had any real emotional investment in the relationship. He was only doing it out of obligation, for protection—and, most of all, for Eve. Perhaps that _did_ make this whole…whatever they had worth it.

Dallas shoved his hands under the pillows, gripping the sheets underneath them tightly. It wouldn’t be permanent, Luck had already explained that much, at least.

“ _It’s only a temporary arrangement,” Luck said when Dallas had shot to his feet. “My brothers have gotten very impatient with my—ah—lack of visible romantic interest. They’re trying to get me set up with a girl from another family, but apparently they don’t seem to understand that I’m not interested.”_

“ _So you want me to_ pretend _to be your goddamn_ boyfriend _?” Dallas was still shocked. This whole thing—this whole proposal was fucked up._ He _was fucked up. What else did he expect from the Gandor, though, really? “If you think for one_ measly _second that I’m gonna be_ kissing _you or some shit—”_

“ _I couldn’t ask that much of you,” Luck replied in an oddly cool and even tone. It almost—almost—made Dallas want to strangle him. The repercussions of that, he feared, would make the action pretty much worthless. Even after some seventy-odd years, the idea of going back to the river terrified him. “All I want is for you to pretend. There won’t be anything serious.”_

Nothing serious. Dallas let himself relax against the pillows. So, basically, it’d all be just one big, sham, lie, right? He’d had plenty of experience with acting those out. Perhaps this _could_ be done, then. Maybe he _could_ pretend to be Luck Gandor’s boyfriend, if only for a little while. Hell, he’d get some profit off of it, too, if he had any say in it.

Even with that in mind, he _still_ didn’t have the slightest idea what the _fuck_ he was actually doing.


End file.
